Moth to Flame

"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window."

The silent, distant glow wasn’t noticed for a time until Danielle asked Tyler, “What’re you staring at cutie?” Her airy voice oozed into his ears as she entwined her fingers around his.

It made him uncomfortable how she used any excuse to touch him. Whether it was an obvious brush against his skin, or how she pressed her breasts against his back when she drew near; he felt like a piece of meat.

“Isn’t that the old Sigsby place?” Tyler said as he extracted his hand from her grip and grabbed his beer.

“Yeah. That place has been abandoned since it was shut down after some illegal abortion killed that girl and her baby.” Danielle agreed.

Liam let out a deep, rattling belch. “Killed a bunch of girls and tried to cover it up by burying them in the woods. Gave that old psycho doc the chair.”

“Eww, that’s a sad subject,” Megan remarked. “Why are you talking about that?”

Danielle pointed at the top window, “Looks like someone’s inside.”

Liam perked up. “Shit, let’s check it out.”

“I say let’s don’t.” There was a slight quaver to Megan’s voice. “I don’t understand why anyone would want to see that creepy ass place?”

“To party. Why else?” Liam was delighted. “Or they’re ghost hunters.”

“With a single candle?” Tyler asked.

“They’re horror geeks getting their freak on.” Liam made a crude gesture toward Megan then slapped her ass.

“Ow,” her full lips creased in a slight smile as she rubbed the sting. She turned to do the same, but he pulled her close and gave her a drunken kiss.

When Tyler realized he was staring, he wrenched his gaze from them. He turned to give them privacy but bumped into Danielle. She looked up at him with sapphire, glistening eyes. She pressed her soft body into his and tucked an errant curl behind his ear. His neck grew hot, and at the same time, his groin shifted.

Confusion rattled in his mind. Danielle was an attractive woman, but Tyler knew he didn’t want a relationship with her. It wasn’t in his nature to act like Liam, who could juggle multiple women like a professional circus act, then drop them unceremoniously when he was tired of them.

Tyler twisted his lips in a smile that his eyes didn’t reflect when Liam caught their attention again. “Come on Ty, if those weirdos want a scare, we’ll give it to them.”

“Let’s forget about the cabin and just have a good time here,” Megan clutched at Liam’s shirt sleeve, but he pulled away.

“The good time is happening there,” he pointed to the cabin. “Are you lot coming or what?”

Megan deflated but dutifully followed, after casting a pleading look at Danielle and Tyler.

“Like a moth to flame, we are drawn to our doom,” Tyler sighed.

“You don’t have to follow him like a lost puppy all your life,” Danielle crossed her arms.

He rhythmically clenched his jaw and stared at the ground. Her words stung, but they were true. He was Liam’s eternal, faithful sidekick, much like a lost puppy. Liam was also Tyler’s only friend—aside from Danielle—fear of losing that link spurred him to be the constant tagalong.

Danielle switched tactics when she noticed him squinting in the dark toward Liam and the cabin. “We both know he only wants to get Megan alone so he can bang her.” She caressed his arm, barely touching his skin while pressing her body to his. Their combined body heat emboldened her. She leaned into his ear and whispered, “Stay here and keep me warm. I’m feeling a slight chill.” For added emphasis, she slid her other hand under his shirt and brushed her nails across his smooth skin. His heart hammered against her fingertips.

Tyler’s whole body shivered, and he let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Tha…that tickles,” he stammered, guiding her hand out of his shirt. “I-I should ch-check on Liam. You know, to keep him out of trouble in-in case someone’s there.” He gulped the remaining liquid from the can without tasting it and stalked after them.

Pain and rejection trampled on Danielle’s heart as a sharp sting hit her eyes. For a brief second, she thought about going home, but wounded pride sent her after Tyler.

* * *

The candle flickered in the upper window as tiny slivers of moonlight filtered through the thick woods. A sinister, rusted, wrought iron fence encircled the cabin. It grew from the ground like a line of skeletal hands meant to keep trespassers at bay. Megan shivered despite the night being warm and muggy. Liam pushed on the gate; it let out a mournful protest.

“I’ve got a bad feeling—”

“Shh,” Liam jammed his finger in her face, even in the sparse light she could see his face turn violet. “If you can’t keep quiet, go back.”

Megan swallowed but held his sharp gaze. She didn’t know why she put up with his abuse. She was sure one of these days she would leave him, but every time she made up her mind, he’d do something sweet and caring. She’d forgive him, remember why she loved him, and continue the never-ending cycle.

The cabin door slid open on silent hinges. This uncanny silence froze Megan in her tracks. An overwhelming sense of dread held her back. Cold air washed over her feet and calves like the rolling chill of an industrial walk-in freezer. Her body refused to pass the threshold, but Liam held no compunction. He stepped in and was swallowed by shadow.

She gripped a single, gossamer thread of courage, but it disintegrated when an arctic wisp of air caressed her ear, and a single word slithered down her ear canal. “Mama.”

Megan ran into the cabin and slammed into Liam. He swore as he stumbled and struggled to remain on his feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed.

“I–I heard a voice,” she said looking over her shoulder, holding him tight.

Liam screwed up his face as he disentangled himself from her frightened, clinging hands. “If you’re going to be a scared little pussy you can go back to Tyler and Danielle.”

“But I felt it’s brea—”

His fingers clenched her jaw, they compressed into her cheeks as fiery eyes bored into hers. She blinked back tears of pain and humiliation. His harsh voice, muffled through gritted teeth, sounded like the air spewing out of a sliced tire, “Shut your face.”

Megan remained motionless and silent as Liam removed his hand and cocked his right ear toward the staircase. “I don’t think anyone heard you,” he whispered. “For God’s sake, stay quiet. Even if a snake slithers up your leg, into your crotch, don’t make a fucking sound.”

Megan swallowed and dabbed her eyes. Her fear of Liam trumped the mysterious voice. He was real, physical, the voice was probably her mind playing tricks. She followed him until they reached the top landing. Liam pointed to the right. There was a dim glow that barely peeked underneath the door. It was as if the light was afraid to leave the room.

Liam hissed something, but she didn’t hear, her ears were trained on another noise coming from the opposite side. It sounded like crying, but Megan wasn’t sure because it was muted by the blood thumping in her ears. It was, Megan decided, a young girl.

As loud as she dared, Megan said, “Do you hear that, Liam?”

He ignored her. His ear was pressed to the door and his eyes were fixed straight ahead. She waved her hands at him, but his attention was so rooted in what lay beyond, he didn’t notice. As she inched further down the hall, the cries became clearer. There was a desperate tone to the soft sobs. “My baby,” Megan heard behind a closed door and her heart broke for the young girl. She sent a last look toward Liam. He was so enraptured with the door, that she left him to it, while she followed the dejected whimpers.

Liam gripped the doorknob and turned it as slowly as he could. Excitement primed his blood, and his ears thrummed with adrenaline. Through the ringing in his ears, he knew he heard heavy breathing beyond the door. The latch released without a sound, now he had to make sure the old hinges didn’t sound an alarm when they opened. A door this old and unused would protest if he barged in too fast. With painstaking patience, he inched it open. When it was open wide enough for one eye to see, he gave the room a quick sweep. Wavering candlelight bathed the room in a soft, warm, glow. Aside from a single, strange piece of furniture, the room was empty. Confused, Liam dropped the pretense of stealth and stepped inside. He looked left, but he saw nothing. He looked right, his eyes locked onto a human-shaped shadow in the corner. His breath hitched as winter’s chill pierced his organs. It darted toward him with uncanny speed. As he opened his mouth to scream, a black shadow enveloped him.

* * *

“Let’s wait for them here. Liam can do his thing, then we’ll all go back, finish the beers, and…” Danielle was going to say ‘have a good time,’ but the more she thought about it, the less she wanted to continue getting slapped in the face with Tyler’s rejections.

“When we find them, we’ll convince Liam to leave these people alone and come back.”

“You’re not his keeper,” Danielle sighed.

“But he’s my friend, I have to be there for him.”

“When has he been there for you, Tyler?” Danielle saw a warning flash in his eyes but she was frustrated and wouldn’t let it go. “The only reason he invites you along is because you buy all the alcohol and weed. He doesn’t give a shit about you, but I do.” She couldn’t stop now, she was going to lay all her cards on the table. “I don’t understand why you let him fuck you every which way, but won’t give me a goddam chance.”

Tyler’s eyes widened, he opened his mouth but words eluded him. Instead, he turned his back and slipped into the cabin.

Danielle wanted to apologize immediately, but she stood firm. Tyler needed some hard truth in his life, her only regret was it had to come from her. She ran her fingers through her wavy hair, took a deep breath, and a second, then followed.

The interior was painted in shadows and smelled of neglect. The scent of damp dust was mingled with a slight hint of wood and a faint, musty odor of fish. She noticed Tyler’s thin frame open a door to the left and enter. She called out to him but was answered by a thump upstairs. She told herself it was Megan and Liam, but hurried toward Tyler’s direction as a cold chill whispered down her extremities.

Tyler entered the room hoping to be left alone, but he heard Danielle follow behind. Her words smacked him with the truth, a truth he wasn’t prepared to hear.

“I’m sorry,” she said inching closer. She turned him around. Face to face she slipped her arms around his waist and squeezed. “I just hate to see how he uses you and Megan. You deserve better.”

He stiffened at her touch. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he eased them noncommittally onto her shoulders. Why must she constantly touch me? He wondered. The persistent closeness made it difficult to keep rejecting her. I don’t want to hurt you. Because then I’ll lose you.

“Listen, Danielle—”

“Just hold me a moment,” she crooned. “Then I’ll leave you alone…and I’ll back off.”

His heart flipped. That’s not what he wanted, or was it? He wasn’t sure anymore. His head tried to be logical, but his body wanted carnal delights. He needed Danielle’s friendship, but if a romantic relationship ended up in failure, he’d lose a true friend. When he admitted to himself she felt good in his embrace, he finally let himself be held. He moved his arms down to her waist and pulled her close as he breathed in the sweet fragrance of her hair. Before he knew what happened, their lips were locked together and their tongues were intertwined.

Her hand caressed his groin which responded immediately. His hands acted on their own. They slid down, grabbed her firm ass ground her hips on his. Then in a moment of panic, he pushed Danielle away. Even in the dark room, he could see the heavy-lidded flame of desire in her eyes. His blood was sizzling, he wanted her like no one else, but still… “Wait…” he breathed.

She ignored his request instead, she squeezed his cock. Tyler’s eyes rolled upward in an intense mixture of pleasure and pain. “Do you want me?” she breathed.

Passion dominated, and he nodded.

“Then take me,” she growled unbuttoning her blouse and sitting on the bed. When she got to the last one, she yanked on the fabric to pop it loose and she leaned back exposing her breasts.

Tyler grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulled it over his head, and was assaulted with a picture of pure horror. When his shirt passed over his head his eyes opened to a room that was painted red. The walls bled with thick, crimson rivulets, and the floor was awash with scarlet puddles. His nostrils flared with the smell of iron and a sour tang of rancid meat. When his eyes landed on Danielle, he lost his mind.

Her entire body was smothered in blood. Thick, congealed, clumps of gore matted her hair. They slid down her body, thumped onto the bed, or smacked the floor with sickening splats of finality. Her fingers were splayed at odd, unnatural angles that resembled the claws of a raptor. She raised her mangled hands to her forehead and began to slice the flesh from her face until her middle finger stopped and pressed into her open eyeball. Tyler gawked uncomprehending as she pressed harder and it popped with a stomach-churning squelch. The clear liquid oozed out of the socket, and down her cheek mingling with the bright red blood.

A scream erupted through Tyler’s vocal cords as he scrambled for the door, ripped it open, and fled the bedroom. Wild with terror, he bolted blindly through the cabin. The nightmare visage of Danielle clouded his vision causing him to trip on a rug. Starbursts exploded in his eyes when he hit the floor. His stomach lurched when drew himself to his hands and knees. Again he saw Danielle poke her finger through her eye, the sound it made echoed through his head and he vomited. Tyler retched until his stomach was empty, then it tried to eject itself for good measure. When his midsection finally stopped convulsing, he gripped the wall to steady his wobbly legs and eased himself up.

He found himself in a room illuminated in an inviting, warm glow, but his body felt the chill of fever. He was in a large living room with bright, crackling flames rippling from a recessed fireplace on the opposite wall. Tyler sensed he was losing his mind. He clenched his eyes shut. “This isn’t real,” he chanted over and over until a thought occurred to him. Liam must have slipped him some acid. He’s actually sitting at the camp where everyone is laughing at the vivid hallucinations he’s having. When he opens his eyes again, he’ll see that none of them—himself included—ever left the camp.

A wailing cry ripped him from those thoughts. His eyes snapped open, but he wasn’t surrounded by woods and his friends. The hallucination continued at full strength because he was still in the living room, but now there was an old-fashioned baby crib in front of the fireplace. It rocked erratically back and forth while a baby screamed from inside. Deep within, where the most primal part of his brain resided, something warned him to stay away. Escaping this ordeal was the number one priority, but if a baby was here, it shouldn’t be left alone. “Don’t touch my baby,” a cold, distant, feminine voice warned. Tyler froze. “No man will touch him again.” He whirled around to face the owner of the voice—but he was alone—except for the screaming child.

The baby expelled a small cough then a choked, gurgling cry, followed by deathly silence. The crib stopped rocking, instead, it jittered and shook like the child inside was convulsing. Tiny arms and legs struck out at the invisible thing cutting off its breath. It let out another wet, choking cough, and a small gag before going quiet again. The baby would choke to death if he didn’t act.

Tyler ran to the crib, reached in without thinking, and picked up a small, slimy, painfully cold mass that resembled a giant wad of chewed gum. He held an amorphous blob of gray-purple flesh, covered in chunks of gelatinous gore. It was a malformed fetus, complete with a primordial tail. A fleshy tendril stretched from its midsection and attached to a bulbous black mass that puddled in the bottom of the bassinet. When the thing turned its deflated balloon-looking head and cloudy eyes toward him, it stretched leathery lips into a deformed smile. Black gums shone back at Tyler. He unleashed a maniacal scream and threw the unfinished fetus into the crib. He turned to run but was stopped by a pale, shadowy figure.

She was a waif of a young girl, but Tyler knew something was forbidding about her. It could have been the translucent gray skin, or the dull, lank hair hanging in thick, clumps. Mostly it was the solid black eyes resembling lifeless orbs of a dead beetle, that reflected the orange-yellow flames of the fire. A dirt-covered hospital gown hung loosely atop angular shoulders. Over her midsection, a dark, black stain spread in a large circular pattern. “I said, don’t touch my baby.”

Her arm whistled through the air. Tyler’s eyes barely registered the movement. He wondered what she did when he saw something long and thin in her hand. It looked like a stretched wire, clothes hanger. At that moment he felt an odd pressure on his abdomen. Then he felt hot, thick liquid seep into his shirt. He looked down in time to see his intestines splatter onto the floor.

* * *

Danielle ran up the stairs. “Tyler,” she rasped. She couldn't understand what had terrified him, but she was sure she didn’t want to attract anyone’s or anything’s attention. Stopping at the top of the steps, she had to decide, left or right? She heard him run to the top, but there she lost his trail.

The glow from behind the closed door decided for her. “Tyler? Megan? I’ll even take Liam,” she whispered. Feminine, muffled laughter from inside answered her. She reasoned Megan must be inside, that was enough. Though her entire body tingled with discomfort, she charged in.

She expected to see either Liam and Megan’s naked bodies sweating and writhing together, or the more appealing sight of Tyler. Even if he was still frightened out of his wits. If Danielle had an eternity to prepare herself, her mind would never be able to accept the horror that greeted her. To keep from shattering, it completely shut down. Her nose still sensed the sick stench of death, her skin rippled from the humidity in the room, and her eyes saw the evil that assaulted them, but her brain refused to acknowledge it. This wasn’t real. No human could be so vile.

Part of Liam was displayed on an examination table, but his insides were spilled on the floor like a quivering mass of chopped meat. Someone had strapped his legs to the stirrups of a gynecologist's exam table, then ripped his legs apart like a Thanksgiving wishbone. His pale, lifeless face was twisted and frozen in a silent scream. His human features were replaced with a frozen, lifeless gaze of a mannequin.

Danielle couldn’t scream. The carnage in front of her stole her breath. With extreme exertion, she forced her body to return to the door and escape, but someone blocked her way.

Her breath returned and she let out a shriek of surprise. Danielle scrambled backward until she remembered Liam’s distorted corpse stretched out behind her, and she slid to the side. Even from this distance, she felt freezing hatred wafting off the figure. “Let me out of here!” Danielle’s shrill voice sliced through the silent air.

Dead, cold, silent eyes never flinched. Yes, Danielle thought. She is dead. Her pallor was not conducive to living beings, and the huge, dried blood stain on her hospital gown signified a horrific end.

“I already dealt with the nasty men. They’ll never hurt any girls or babies again,” a voice said, though her lips never moved.

Hot fear lanced through Danielle, “Tyler?”

“You’ll be a perfect, new mama.”

Danielle tried to still her convulsing body, but terror had her in its constricting embrace. Movement and a thick wet sound like meat being kneaded together trickled from Liam’s body. Immediately she thought he was coming back to life to inflict his same, painful death upon her. But out of the mound of Liam’s organs crawled a tiny, amorphous blob. It could have passed for a skinned monkey, but Danielle knew it was a baby. Except it wasn’t, it had more in common with disfigured spawns of demon cast-offs. She couldn’t comprehend what either of these hellspawn wanted, but she knew if either caught her, the end would be much worse than death.

“No!” she barked as she searched for escape. The only exit, other than the guarded door was the window. It would be painted closed, or swollen shut from years of humidity and neglect, Danielle thought, but when she pushed on it, the frame slid open like it was installed yesterday. The leaf-littered ground beckoned her, escape loomed close, and the cool night air smelled sweet compared to the gore of the room.

“Don’t leave us. We need you. My baby neeeds you.”

She needed to jump to clear the fence below, but if she could tuck and roll, maybe she wouldn’t break anything vital. It was a daunting prospect, but much better than whatever this nightmare pair had in store for her. Before she jumped, she cast one last glance into the room. The girl was glued in place, her arms outstretched. She couldn’t see the fetus spawn, but it had to be closer. Danielle inhaled deep, then launched as hard as her legs could go. As her feet left the window ledge, an iron vice clamped onto her ankle, stopping all forward momentum. Instead of flying outward as she hoped, Danielle sailed straight down. The ground rose to meet her in slow motion. Cold, lifeless, uncaring iron waited to catch her. Before she landed she thought, I hope it doesn’t hurt much. She felt nothing as a rusty shaft of iron pierced her brain.

* * *

Megan rapped on the solid wood, “Hello?”

Soft sobs answered, “Killed my baby. Ripped from my womb.”

“Do you need help?”

“Evil doctor, evil daddy, all men…evil.”

Emboldened with a desire to assist those in need, Megan opened the door. No moonlight was able to penetrate this interior room. All she could see was black, with even blacker shadows that moved and swayed as if caught in an underwater current.

“Hello?” she called again. She was answered with muffled whimpers. “You don’t have to be afraid. No one is going to hurt you.” Megan fumbled for the phone in her back pocket. When she opened the flashlight app, the room was flooded with silvery-blue light. She panned left to right but saw nothing other than old office furniture. She trained the light on a fabric-covered chair that was slowly rocking on its own. Her pulse quickened. She thought this was where the cries had originated, maybe the little girl was hiding behind it. Megan squatted down to get a better look under the chair when something small and dark bolted from underneath. She didn’t have time to react before it was across her feet. It brought a cold and wet sensation that was gone as quickly as it had come. She screamed, jumped to her feet, and ran to join Liam. The phone swung at her side as she ran down the hall. She didn’t see Liam standing there but she instinctively wrapped her arms around him when she collided with his sturdy frame.

“Oh Liam, let’s get out of here! There was something in that room and it rushed out at me…” She was trying to drag him toward the steps and out toward safety, but he slipped out of her arms and swung back away from her. She felt something cold and wet on her, and in the darkness, she saw what looked like oil on her forearms. Not only that, but Liam was swinging like a pendulum on a clock. “Liam, stop trying to scare me, you know I don’t like it,” her voice trembled as hard as her hands as she slowly aimed the phone’s flashlight at him.

The bloated, blue face that reflected at her wasn’t Liam’s, it was Tyler. A gray, thin, dark-veined, piece of rope constricted his neck. Megan followed the slick rope up to the rafters where it looped around and stretched back down to the body and into his abdomen, which was nothing but a gaping, bloody hole. Megan felt she had been thrown into the most twisted nightmare world that could be created when she realized Tyler had been hung with his intestines.

Megan heard a scream as it reverberated throughout the house. When she ran out of breath, she realized the scream had issued from her mouth.

“Fix my baby boy, please.”

If Megan hadn’t been terrified, her heart would have ached from the pitiful, pleading cry. It carried the transcendent pain of a mother who lost her child, but she still clutched onto a shred of hope that a miracle would appear in the final act.

Megan whirled around to face a cold, desperate expression of a long-dead mother. She held her distended belly with disconsolate regret. She glanced down, “I didn’t want him to be taken from me, but I wasn’t given a choice, HE wasn’t given a choice.”

Megan pushed her palms into her ears. “Leave me alone!”

“He didn’t ask to be created only to be plucked from my womb before his time. It was the evil men who took my baby’s life and then mine.” She seized her abdomen and groaned in terrible pain.

Megan clutched the rail to keep her knees from buckling when she saw the girl bend over in a half-squat and proceed to drop a wailing mess of flesh from between her legs. A sickening splat echoed through the dark cabin. Megan vomited between screams.

The aborted baby wailed as it crawled toward Megan. “Get away from me!” she shrieked.

Megan’s legs gave out when the mother grunted again, then pushed the placenta onto the floor. The umbilical cord and veiny, purple-black sac of flesh trailed behind the baby as he inched closer.

Sobbing in terror, Megan pulled herself to her feet and ran straight into Tyler’s cold, swinging body again. She howled in dismay and revulsion as she disentangled herself from the body. Escape and safety were only a few short steps away. Nothing else was in her way, she would hit the stairs and evacuate through the door. Before she reached the steps, a deep slicing pain bit her heel. Her foot refused to support her weight and she lost her balance. Bones popped, cracked, and splintered as she stretched out her hands to catch her weight, then continued to plummet down the stairs. When gravity had finished dragging her to the bottom, Megan was amazed her body wasn't awash in agony. Her legs protruded at unnatural angles, and her arm should be a lesson in suffering because two splintered bones sprouted from the flesh.

New horror surfaced when she heard the same, heartbroken voice crooning behind her. “My baby is finally going to be whole. Don’t you worry, Mama, we’re going to take extra special care of you.”

Ice cold hands stroked Megan’s hair. She screamed for help, for Liam, begged her mangled body to move, but she was alone and broken.

“Shh, it’s okay, Mama. I’ve got you.”

Small movements drew Megan’s eyes toward the staircase. The baby had crawled down the stairs and was inching closer. A long, jagged rip ran from the baby’s misshapen head to its chin. The open scar crinkled as it grinned a nightmarish, toothless grin at her, making it look more like a demon than ever. Hysterical sobs cut through the cabin, into the woods, but no one heard them.

The last thing Megan saw was the baby fading from her vision as her belly extended. It was like watching a sped-up progression of pregnancy as the dead baby entered her living womb.

“He’s going to be so perfect...”